


Here comes the sun

by Saltedkiss



Series: Saltedkiss' Camelove 2021 Contributions [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Camelove2021, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Domestic Fluff, Ealdor, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing in the Rain, Pre-Canon, Seasons, and some angst but we all know how the story goes, shifting of seasons, so it shouldn't be a surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltedkiss/pseuds/Saltedkiss
Summary: Hunith, a young girl from a small town in Essetir is asked to take care of a wounded man who's smuggled out of the city of Camelot. She welcomes him into her home, and later into her heart.Or: What Balinor is talking about when he tells Merlin"I had a life there. A woman. A good woman,"in episode 2x13 "The Last Dragonlord".Written for Camelove 2021 - Day 6: Always by your side
Relationships: Balinor/Hunith (Merlin), Hunith & Merlin (Merlin)
Series: Saltedkiss' Camelove 2021 Contributions [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150835
Kudos: 12
Collections: Camelove 2021





	Here comes the sun

Hunith pushed a few stray whisps  of hair under the scarf she had wrapped around her head and looked out the window. Her eyes met Merlin’s, who was on his way back home with Will by his side, as always. Her heart ached for her beautiful son, as it usually did these days. The previous night, another one of their neighbours had come to her with even more questions. People were starting to catch on. It wasn’t safe for Merlin to stay there anymore; wasn’t safe for him to stay with her.

She sprinkled a thin layer of sand over the parchment she’d written on and read the words one last time. 

_ My dear Gaius, _

_ I turn to you for I feel lost and alone, and know not who to trust. Merlin is my only child. To the eye, his smiling face is like any other. It is every mother’s fate to think her child is special and yet I would give my life that Merlin were not so. Ours is a small village and he is so clearly at odds with people here, that if he were to remain, I fear what would become of him.  _

_ In these times, he needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, someone that might help him find a purpose for his gifts. I beg you, if you understand a mother’s love for her son, keep him safe.  _

_ And may God save you both.  _

_Hunith_

When Merlin came through the door, Hunith sealed the letter and quickly dried her eyes. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said, her voice thin, "I’ve made you your favourite.”

Merlin’s bright smile lit up the room. 

That evening, Hunith waited for Merlin’s soft, even breathing to fill the room to indicate that he’d drifted off. As soon as she was sure he was sleeping, she got up and went to sit by the fire, where she stared into the smouldering embers and thought back to a night a long, long time ago. Back to where it all began. 

It had been with a letter, back then, too. 

** Winter **

Hunith couldn’t believe she was actually standing there, knee deep in what must have been the heaviest snowfall Ealdor had seen in years. She stood by the side of the road at a crossroads about half an hour from her home, shivering in her warmest winter coat, which didn’t even come close to shielding her from the icy winds that tore straight through it. Her breeches were drenched, her feet two balls of frozen misery in the boots she was now confident _did_ in fact have holes in them. She brought her hands to her mouth and blew on them in an attempt to warm them up just enough for the numbness to go away, if even for a little while. 

She knew she had the day right. It was Wednesday, after all. Her guest should arrive soon. If his cart hadn’t gotten stuck in a snowbank, that was. There was no way of knowing. Nothing to do but wait for her guest to arrive, if he even did. So, she stood there and waited. 

When the sun started to set and snowflakes started to fall from the skies again, Hunith decided she’d better get going if she wanted to be home before nightfall. Just as she started to move back towards the village, the rattling sound of a wooden cart reached her. She moved in the direction the sound had come from. A big, dark horse pulled a merchant’s cart. Both rider and horse looked absolutely miserable. Hunith's heart went out to the man on the rider’s bench, convinced that he was the guest she’d been waiting for. She offered him a wide smile when he reigned in his horse. It wasn’t until then that she saw the bundle of hurt huddled up in the back. Wrapped in a blanket so thin she could see right through it, there was a man. His bruised face and scruffy beard were covered in dried blood and from what Hunith was able to see, he was so thin he was nothing but skin and bones. 

Hunith rushed towards the cart and almost jumped up on it, her first instincts to check if the man was even still alive. 

He was. 

But barely. 

“We have to get him to my house,” she told the driver, who then told her to get up on the cart and show her the way. Hunith was glad it had taken them so long to reach the crossroads where she was supposed to meet them. The winter season meant people got ready for the night early. Chances of running into anyone in the village were slim to none. Hunith turned to the wounded man in the cart and took her own cloak off to cover him with it. 

“We’re going to get you warm, alright?” she tried. “I’ve got stew back home.” 

The man didn’t speak, but opened his eyes just long enough for Hunith to discern the warmest brown she’d ever seen. “We’re going to get you warm.”

The driver simply shrugged when Hunith asked what had happened to the man and told her his job wasn’t to ask questions. He did tell her the man hadn’t woken up since they’d left Camelot two days prior, while they carried the man into her home. Together, they hauled him to the fireplace. Hunith felt bones stick through his torn clothes and wondered how long it had been since the man had last had a proper meal. She was quick to light a fire and gather several more blankets to cover the man with, before putting the stew she’d made the day before over the fire. When the scent of Hunith's food filled the small cottage, the man opened his eyes again. Hunith went to his side and stroked his hair back, careful not to hurt him by getting her fingers tangled in the knots of dirt and dried blood. “You’re safe now,” she whispered, “I promise.”

** Spring **

“One more push, my love,” Hunith murmured against the cow’s neck, while scratching her behind her ear. 

“What do I do? Hunith, I see hooves!” Hunith didn’t have to see the man’s face to know what it looked like. She smiled against the cow’s warm fur as she imagined the way Balinor's eyebrows were probably knitted together. 

“Just let her take her time, if she needs help, we’ll know.”

“But there’s so much... slime!”

Hunith chuckled. “I know they don’t hatch like your dragons do, but surely, you’ll be able to stomach something as quaint as a calving cow, oh brave Dragonlord?” She looked at him over the cow’s back and was absolutely delighted to see his baffled expression. His cheeks had filled out again, she noticed, when the smile he shared with her revealed a set of dimples she hadn’t seen before. He should shave more often. 

Together they watched over Hunith's cow, ready to offer assistance as soon as it looked like she’d need it. In the end, the brave girl didn’t need much help at all and before long she was nuzzling the black and white wonder she’d just birthed. 

Hunith wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, which earned her an odd stare from Balinor. 

“What?” she asked with a smile. 

“You’ve got a little bit of, er...” He took a step forward and untied the neckerchief he’d started to wear while working with her on her farm. The way he wiped her forehead clean reminded her of the softness with which the cow had cleaned her newborn calf. 

“There. Much better.” He stood so close to her, Hunith could feel his warm breath on her skin. She breathed a “thank you” and quickly took a step back. The way he’d looked at her just then had her heart racing. He had that effect on her. Ever since he’d gotten better, Balinor had started to follow her around the village, insisting on carrying bags of hay for her or helping her plough the small field she owned. Hunith wasn’t used to the intimacy that came with sharing her cottage with someone so... present, either. Wherever she looked, she now saw little things that reminded her of Balinor. His muddy footprints on her doorstep, shavings of his wood whittling that had found their way into a corner of the room. She smelled his clean scent when she entered her home and saw his warm smile whenever she looked his way. 

Hunith, who had often made fun of other girls in the village who’d said a passing merchant had made them feel weak in the knees or any such nonsense, now found herself blushing whenever this tall man so much as looked in her direction. And he almost always did. She knew this, because her eyes never failed to find his whenever they were near one another.

A loud snort from the calf was enough to break the spell. Hunith took a step back and shot Balinor a shy smile. “We should probably leave them to it. I could definitely use a set of fresh clothes right about now.” She looked down at her stained dress and headed back to her cottage. Balinor followed suit. 

“Actually,” Hunith said as she opened the door, “I should probably head down to the river and get some washing done. Think you’ll be able to entertain yourself for a while?”

“I think I’ll manage.” His voice was muffled by the shirt he pulled over his head.

“Your wounds have healed nicely.” Hunith had to clear her throat. Most of the scars had all but faded and even the infected wounds had begun to heal. He'd put on enough weight for her to no longer be able to count his ribs when looking at him. Her gaze slowly moved up from his well-defined chest. 

“Remind me to thank you for saving my life.”

“Oh, I would. If you hadn’t done so twice already. Today, that is.” She grinned and held her hand out for his dirty shirt. He took it and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, before turning it over again, palm up, and placing the shirt in it. 

Hunith gathered their clothes in a large basket and headed off to the river. On the way there, she looked over her shoulder, and found him standing on her doorstep. 

Eyes on her. 

** Summer ** ****

Hunith wiped the back of her neck, finding it hard to breathe due to the sweltering heat of summer, that could not be further removed from the uncharacteristically cold and harsh winter they'd had to suffer through mere months ago. It had been a long time since the sun had burned this hot in Ealdor. Everyone in the village did their best to help save this year’s crops. The children kept running to and from the almost completely dried up river, carrying buckets full of mud. Farmers and their families tried to shield their growing plants from the worst of the burning sun. The elders prayed to whichever god would hear them. But to no avail.

Soon they’d have to choose between saving the crops or the cattle.

They couldn’t afford to lose either.

“I can help,” Balinor said. “There are rituals I could perform. They could help.”

He rubbed his thumb over Hunith's cracked lips and handed her his waterskin. “No arguing this time. Drink.” 

Hunith shot him a soft smile and brought the waterskin to her mouth, savouring its contents. They’d been weeding all morning in the blazing heat. She sighed in relief when the cool water ran down her throat. “I’d rather you didn’t put yourself at risk,” Hunith said. “We’ve survived droughts before. We’ll get through this one, too.”

“I heard the village elders yesterday. I’ve seen the crops.” Balinor shook his head. “It can’t have been worse than this one.” 

Hunith looked at the man before her, the face that had become more familiar to her than her own, his warm eyes and gentle smile that made her stomach clench ever so slightly whenever she saw it. The villagers had been wary of him at first, this stranger who’d come to live with one of the village’s few eligible women. As soon as the townspeople had gotten to know Balinor, they had been quick to accept this good-natured man in their midst, although Hunith had heard some of the things they whispered whenever she walked by. 

Hunith knew they wouldn’t be as open-minded when it came to his magic. Even though the people of Essetir weren’t as hostile towards magic-users as those he’d escaped in Camelot, Hunith and Balinor had decided it best to keep Balinor's magic a secret. Yet here he was, offering to out himself so the village could be saved. 

She shook her head. “We’ll be fine.”

Hunith knew her reasoning was irrational, but she admitted to herself that she’d rather lose this year’s harvest than risk losing Balinor. Over the past couple of months, this brave man had come to mean a lot to her. Too much, perhaps. Now that all but his mental wounds had healed, surely, he’d have to move on soon. And yet he didn’t. Hunith had decided to stop dreading the day he’d leave and chose to enjoy the time they had together instead. She chose to feel each touch, savour each shared smile, well aware that this would only make it harder to say goodbye when the day came. But she’d rather share as much with him as she could, right now, and miss him after he left, than not have any memories to cherish at all. 

“Do you trust me?”

She did. Gods help her, she did. 

By the time the setting sun had turned the summer skies into a marvel of bright oranges and soft pink, they found themselves in a meadow a couple of miles from the village. Hunith had taken Balinor there to perform his ritual so no one would find them.  So that he’d be safe from prying eyes and loose tongues. 

Even though Hunith was supposed to keep watch, she had a hard time keeping her eyes off of the handsome man, who sat cross-legged in the grass, his palms on the ground and head turned towards the skies. He’d been chanting the same words over and over again in a language Hunith didn’t understand. 

Over and over again. 

Until suddenly he stopped. His eyes found her, the bright honey glow in them fading fast until they returned to the familiar shade of brown she’d come to associate with intimate conversations by candle light and boisterous laughter on warm summer nights.

He got up and moved towards her with a bounce in his step, she assumed was caused by the energy flowing through his veins. “It’s done,” he said, his voice so low she felt it resonate within her own chest. Hunith felt her pulse quicken. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, breaking the silence that hung between them. Balinor smiled and took a step towards her. Then another. 

Dark clouds gathered overhead. Hunith didn’t notice. Didn’t see anything but the man who halted before her.

The first drop to land on Hunith startled her. Balinor smiled at her and wiped it off of her cheek with his thumb. The simple touch made her skin tingle. 

Thick drops landed on the dry grass around them at a steadily increasing pace. They sky around them darkened even more until the skies became a menacing black. 

It didn’t compare to the hurricane in Hunith's chest that seemed to swell every second Balinor kept looking at her the way he did. She could feel his eyes on her skin. Felt them burn so hot she wondered why the drops that landed on her didn’t evaporate. 

He lowered his eyes until his gaze rested on her lips. A flash of lightning ripped through the dark skies. 

Hunith lifted her head to his right as he tilted his own towards her. The heavy downpour he’d called upon them came so fast the dried soil couldn’t soak up all that had been released when the heavens broke. 

“You did it,” she said breathlessly. A moment later his lips found hers. 

Balinor's strong hands snaked around Hunith's waist until they rested on the small of her back, where only the thin fabric of her drenched summer dress separated them from her skin. Her hands made her way up to his broad shoulders. 

They stood there, kissing in the pouring rain for what felt like hours. An isle of peace in the midst of the thunderstorm that raged around them. 

When they finally let go, the meadow around them had been flooded, the dried soil unable to soak up all the water that had been brought down from the heavens by Balinor's spell. Hunith sighed. 

“Stay with me,” she whispered against his soaked shirt. 

“Forever, if you’ll have me.”

** Autumn **

Hunith snuck out of her friend Myrtle’s home as soon as the sun had set. She made sure no one saw her and kept to the shadows as she made her way to her own house. With a secretive smile on her face, she pushed the front door open. 

Balinor got up immediately and took a defensive stance. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting any visitors. As soon as he recognised Hunith , his muscles relaxed. He opened his arms and she practically ran into them. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she inhaled that musky scent she’d come to associate with him. With her cheek pressed against Balinor's chest, Hunith thought, not for the first time, about how perfectly they seemed to fit together.

He tightened the hug for a moment before lowering his hand so he could caress her lower back. 

“Eager to see me, are we?” he asked. Hunith could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Always.”

He pressed a kiss on her head and let his had wander over her back, upwards, to her shoulder, over her arm, until finally his hand found hers. He took it in his and raised it to his chest.

“Dance with me,” Balinor whispered.

“There’s no music.”

“There will be, tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. 

Hunith sighed against his chest as he started to sway to an unsung melody. 

Their handfasting ceremony. 

The day had finally come. Her white dress had been bleached one last time and was now covered in lavender twigs. Her mother’s old jewellery had been polished and sat waiting in a small wooden box next to her dress. The flowers Myrtle would braid into her hair had been picked earlier that day and filled her friend’s small home with the fragrant aroma associated with new beginnings and good tidings. 

Neither of them spoke while Balinor danced with Hunith in the home they’d continue to share after the ceremony tomorrow. The one that would be theirs. Their family’s. 

Hunith lifted her head and Balinor immediately lowered his until their lips found each other. Their kiss was slow and tender, filled with a promise of shared happiness and laughter. Of children’s footsteps on the tile floor they were now dancing on. Of the tender comfort brought by the caress of wrinkled hands and the effortless familiarity that would come as they grew old together. 

Hunith's hands travelled upwards until they found Balinor's thick hair. She pulled him even closer. He was more than eager to follow her lead. She pushed Balinor backwards, slowly but decidedly leading him towards the bed of fresh straw he’d placed in the corner of their home. As soon as he caught on to what she was doing, Balinor broke their kiss. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with want. 

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you, love?”

Her only answer was a knowing smile.

“We don’t have to... not yet. We can wait until tomorrow,” his voice was barely more than a growl, “until after the ceremony. We’ll have the rest of our lives, you know.”

She pushed him down onto the bed and let herself be pulled on top of him. Rather than saying anything, Hunith leaned forward and continued to kiss him. 

“You’re sure?” he asked in a strangled voice. She felt how tense his muscles were underneath his linen shirt, as she ran her hands over Balinor's chest. Felt the tremor in them, caused by the restraint he was only barely able to show anymore. 

“I love you,” she whispered, before she lifted his shirt over his head. “The rest of our lives can’t begin soon enough.”

Hunith was the first to be woken by the three quick knocks on their door. She wiggled out from under Balinor's heavy arm and got up quickly, pulled a blanket over her shoulders and walked towards the door, still a little sore in all the right places. A look out the window confirmed that they’d fallen asleep. The first rays of sunlight were already streaming in, holding the promise of a beautiful, sunny autumn day.

Three more knocks. Myrtle had probably noticed Hunith was gone. Hunith chuckled as she imagined her friend’s face upon noticing Hunith's bed hadn’t been slept in. The poor girl had probably lost it. 

“Hunith, quick,” she heard the oldest Simmons brother hiss behind the door. 

The panic in his voice turned her blood to ice. Not Myrtle. 

“Balinor has to leave,” Simmons hissed. “Now. They’re coming!”

Hunith couldn’t breathe. 

He knocked again. “Hunith, wake up! The Knights are coming!”

** *** **

“I’ll come visit,” Merlin said, his nose pressed in Hunith's dark curls as he hugged her tightly. “I promise. This isn’t goodbye.”

Hunith sniffled, unable to turn her incoherent thoughts into words. Merlin kissed her on her forehead and hoisted his backpack a little higher up on his shoulders before finally turning around to leave the village he’d grown up in. He started his journey with a bounce in his step, the excitement he felt about this next adventure evident in every move he made. 

She kept it all together for as long as she could. She watched Merlin’s tall figure grow smaller in the distance, saw his dark hair stand out against the blue skies. Hunith swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat and refused to think of how another man had left in the same direction, so very long ago. She’d stood on this very spot when the man she loved had taken the same path Merlin took right now. Had felt her heart break then, as it did now. Had believed she’d see that man again, too. But she hadn’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking your time to read my work. It means a lot that you do.  
> Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, or come find me on Tumblr (@shut-up-Merlin)! 
> 
> Thank you, Effie. You know why.


End file.
